


it’s not nostalgia if there’s nothing to miss

by obstinateRixatrix



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, references to bad dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 08:36:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14951279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obstinateRixatrix/pseuds/obstinateRixatrix
Summary: Ryuji and Yusuke talk about the kind of shenanigans they got into as kids: eating paint and flaming dodgeball.





	it’s not nostalgia if there’s nothing to miss

**Author's Note:**

> yo yall a couple notes up here & then more notes at the end:
> 
> [ here’s pics of yusuke’s room from dancing star night](https://twitter.com/middybioshock/status/999426295904616448?s=21) if you want a point of reference from what I’m working off
> 
> when does this take place? after they’ve become Good Friends. (listen. dont worry about it.) 
> 
> thanks air & pita for the once-over! they endured my yelling & offered v helpful suggestions

Ryuji’s not the best model. Or a good model in general. He’s a pretty shitty model, honestly, and he probably should’ve thought about that before agreeing to help out, but it’s too late now— he’s stuck in the same place for who knows how long, staring at the bare white wall of Yusuke’s dorm.

If that wasn’t bad enough, he’s staring at a blank wall while surrounded by stuff that’s _way_ more interesting to look at! There’s paintings and sketches all over the place, stuff that ranges from regular looking people to weird looking people to regular looking landscapes to effin’ weird landscapes, not to mention that _creepy clown doll_ just sitting in the corner what the—

“Ryuji,” Yusuke calls, “face forward.”

“I am!”

“You were not.”

And... yeah, maybe Ryuji got kinda distracted, but only for a second!

“Why don’t we take a break,” Yusuke says, and it’s... obviously because a certain someone can’t sit still. After all, Yusuke’s the kinda guy who can work for hours on end. He’s not the one who needs a break after...

Ten minutes, according to Ryuji’s phone. Jeez. That’s pretty sad.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck. There’s no other chair at Yusuke’s place, so Ryuji just sits on the floor. “This is probably a huge pain for you.”

After a moment, Yusuke leaves his chair to join Ryuji; they’re practically shoulder-to-shoulder. “I appreciate your assistance,” he says, surprisingly tactful. “It’s somewhat refreshing to work with someone so unprofessional.”

So much for tact.

“Those accustomed to modeling tend to hold their posture in a practiced fashion,” Yusuke continues, gearing up for one of his long-winded explanations. He raises his hands to frame Ryuji with that super artsy pose of his, which is kind of pointless while they’re taking a break. “In contrast, there’s a lack of performance to how you hold yourself. Or rather, your performance is natural in how unnatural it is. There’s authenticity in how awkward, how uncertain you are in this context.”

“Thanks,” Ryuji deadpans.

“It’s also a rather new experience to have a rapport with the model,” Yusuke adds, more of an afterthought than anything. “Working with professionals requires being professional, after all.”

From what Ryuji remembers, there was a lot of theatrics the last time he saw Yusuke work with a bona-fide model— ‘professional’ seems a bit of a stretch.

“So, what, you never did art with someone who wasn’t a professional?” Something about that doesn’t sit right. “Were you just surrounded by adults all the time? What did you do for fun?”

“Art.”

“I mean besides that.” Ryuji rolls his eyes. “C’mon, don’t tell me you spent _all_ your time doin’ art.”

“I spent all my time doing art,” Yusuke says, because he never passes up the chance to be a smartass. “Models were frequently at work in the atelier. We painted still lifes as well, of course, but even without the models I still had to consider my fellow apprentices.”

Yusuke gets quiet after that. He always does when he brings up the other guys who got their art stolen by Madarame.

“Did you ever get to be a kid?” Ryuji asks, if only to have something to talk about.

“There certainly was a point in my life when I was a child.”

There’s a wry kinda look to him, and Ryuji scoffs, bumping his shoulder against Yusuke’s. “No, I mean, did you ever get the chance to do dumb kid stuff?”

Yusuke thinks for a moment, really considering it. Probably way more than he has to. “When I was young,” he starts, finally, “I thought I might be able to turn my saliva into paint if I ate watercolors. Regrettably, it didn’t work.”

“You’re _kidding_ ,” Ryuji says, absolutely delighted. “What did it taste like?”

“A little salty. Somewhat metallic. It had a rather strange texture.” Yusuke frowns at the memory. “While unpleasant, the taste wasn’t enough to deter me from eating the entire set.”

At that, Ryuji can’t help but laugh. It’s easy to imagine, a logic that fits the idea of Yusuke-as-a-kid. Which is kinda cute. More importantly, it’s _hilarious_. “Okay, first of all, I am _so_ effin’ glad you told me that. Second, that’s not the dumb kid stuff I’m talkin’ about— I’m talkin’ about the kinda fun you can get away with as a kid,” he explains.

Or, he tries to; judging from Yusuke’s expression, it’s not really working out.

“Y’know, stuff you’re not dumb enough to pull off after you grow up. Stuff you’d get in way bigger trouble for if you _weren’t_ a kid. Climbin’ telephone poles, jumpin’ fences, flaming dodgeball—“

“Flaming what?” Yusuke interrupts.

“Dodgeball?” Ryuji repeats, bewildered. Now that’s just sad. “It’s when—“

“I know what dodgeball is,” Yusuke interrupts, again. “My confusion is in regards to the ‘flaming’ portion of ‘flaming dodgeball’.”

“Oh, it’s when you rip up an old shirt, ball up the pieces, and set ‘em on fire. Then you throw ‘em at each other.”

“You throw them at each other,” Yusuke echoes. He’s beginning to sound like a broken record.

“Yeah,” Ryuji says. “With gloves, of course.”

“Of course.” Yusuke shakes his head. “It’s a miracle you survived adolescence.

“Y’know, Ann said the same thing,” Ryuji notes, though with her it came out more ‘how are you still alive’. “But that’s part of the fun, right? Not knowin’ your limits and goin’ full-speed ahead.”

There’s a moment of silence as Yusuke mulls it over. “Is that what childhood supposed to be like?” he asks, looking at Ryuji like he’s waiting for a serious, thoughtful, super deep answer.

Here’s the thing: it’s nice, knowing Yusuke expects that. He asks important questions because he thinks Ryuji can give important answers. It’s not something Ryuji’s used to.

At the same time, it’s kinda nerve-wracking. Ryuji’s not the best person to handle stuff that’s delicate, but he’s not the kinda guy that can let it go without saying something. Which means he doesn’t always say the right thing.

Sure, he could probably wave it off and change the subject, but there’s a lot of trust that goes into these kinda questions. He wants to give an answer that’s worth it.

“I’m not the best person to ask,” Ryuji starts, “but like, usually kids don’t have to worry about bein’ professional all the time.”

There’s gotta be a difference between being in a professional setting and living in one. Doesn’t really sound like Yusuke got the chance to learn it.

“Not to get too heavy or whatever,” Ryuji continues, “but when my dad was around, he made me feel like I was responsible for all sorts of shit, y’know? The kinda shit a kid wouldn’t know how to deal with. It took a while after he was out of the picture before I actually started feelin’ like a kid again.”

The worst part was how normal it felt, being constantly on-guard and ready for the worst of it. There wasn’t really a point of reference to figure out how anything was ‘supposed’ to be. Not back then, at least.

“Basically, shitty dads can really eff you up,” Ryuji finishes.

Yusuke lets out a huff of laughter. “Succinct as always, Ryuji,” he says, offering a rueful smile. “I suppose it’s rather pointless to dwell on what may have been lost. Trying to reclaim a nonexistent childhood would be a futile endeavor.”

“Would it, though?” Ryuji asks.

Yusuke looks at Ryuji, a contemplative tilt to his head. “What do you mean?”

That’s a great question that Ryuji doesn’t have an answer for. “Well, we’re part of the Phantom Thieves, yeah?” he says, building up to… something. “Stealin’ from shitty adults is what we do. So... let’s steal back your childhood!”

“Steal back my childhood…” Yusuke brings a hand to his chin, looking kinda skeptical. “And how would we do that?”

“I guess... if you missed out on dumb kid stuff, we can do that now! What’s stoppin’ us!”

“Maintaining the illusion of dignity, I’d assume.”

“Like that’s ever mattered to you,” Ryuji retorts. “Oh, duh! What about graffiti?”

“Street art?” Yusuke asks, because he always has to frame it through his fancy art filter. “I’m relatively certain it’s illegal.”

“Come on, we’re Phantom Thieves! No way we’d get caught. Let’s paint the town red!”

“It seems rather frivolous when I could simply work on canvas...”

“No, no, the point of it is you can’t do it on canvas! Part of the whole art process is where you put it! It’s like sayin’ ‘Hey! I was here!’” Or something like that, anyway. Most of it is just committing vandalism.

“I hadn’t even considered that…! Could this be the allure of performance art?” And with that angle, Yusuke’s fully onboard; he’s got a gleam in his eye that usually spells trouble, but it’s fine. Probably. “Very well. I’ll gather the necessary materials tonight. Shall we begin designing our ‘tag’?”

“Hell yeah!” Ryuji cheers, before remembering why he’s at Yusuke’s room in the first place. “What about the whole model thing?”

“We can do that next time,” Yusuke says, already up and rummaging through a pile of sketchbooks.

“Are you sure you’ll still want me?” Ryuji asks. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but stayin’ still ain’t exactly my thing.”

Yusuke stares for a moment. “Then don’t,” he says, as if it’s that makes any sense.

“Isn’t that the whole point of being a model?”

“You can do some stretches if that would stimulate you more—”

“You really gotta stop using that word.”

“—after all, I’ve been meaning to practice gesture drawing,” Yusuke says, being pretty flippant about the art thing for once.

Unfortunate phrasing aside, the idea of actually doing something sounds like it could work. Still… “There’s probably someone better that could help, though.”

“It has to be you.” Yusuke states it like a fact, something he refuses to budge on. “I enjoy our time together.”

It’s a pretty simple and straightforward sentiment, but the more Ryuji thinks about it, the more he feels… something. It’s nice. There’s a grin he can’t keep down, which is fine, because he doesn’t bother trying. “I like spending time with you too, dude.”

“Wonderful. Now, about our design…”

Yusuke’s already got five different sketches waiting for Ryuji’s input, which is really effin’ impressive. Whatever they come up with is gonna be the talk of Tokyo, for sure.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ok so 
> 
> I started this fic in april and it spent a month as yusuke pov. the greatest loss was:
>
>> “I know what dodgeball is,” Yusuke interrupts. At least, it’s easy enough to discern from context clues. There is a ball. It must be dodged. 
> 
> [context for clown doll can be found here](https://twitter.com/gingerybiscuit/status/1002594783917936641?s=21) (light dancing star night spoilers) (also it’s $3,000 not $300) (I have not stopped thinking about Yusuke’s clown doll for weeks)
> 
> a pal of mine actually ate watercolors as a kid and told me what it tasted like. don’t worry this is the least toxic stuff. made for toddlers stuff.
> 
> a different pal told me about flaming dodgeball which is an actual game they actually played in actual life and I’m in awe
> 
> please don’t take my word about the experience of street art/graffiti. I don’t actually know anything and neither does Ryuji. I read like three articles and used none of the info.


End file.
